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A Wollaston Day

6 Mar

wolly

I took a vacation day yesterday for a doctor’s appointment that never happened because the doctor was running late and I had to make it to my second job. FAIL. I was pretty pissed, but not THAT pissed I guess because I still managed to get some shit done. Usually I waste my days off sleeping and watching Steve Wilkos, but not yesterday. I got up, drove Ryan to work and was ready to carpe diem it the fuck up. I had myself a Wollaston day. Like New York, only 5 million times smaller, and nothing like New York at all, Quincy has sections that it’s citizens rep proudly (you know your sections gang sign! Don’t lie!).  My section: Wollaston. I’ve told you what a Quincy day is, but for all of you who don’t know what a Wollaston day is, let me enlighten you:

A visit with Lionel: Hello? Is it gas you’re looking for? How exactly are you supposed to drive around the 4-5 block radius that is Wollaston Center if you have no gas? I mean, it’s not like there is a gas station every 5 feet or anything. Don’t fret if you accidentally drive past APrime, Lionel also works at Bonfiglioli’s (don’t ask me how the eff I remember the owner’s name of the gas station next to Alumni), and for some reason it oddly feels like he is always at both stations. I feel like Lionel may have a doppelganger out there other than Lionel Richie, who also pumps gas.

lionel

A cup of joe: Make sure you treat yourself to a hopefully not burnt coffee at D&D. I can hear it now: “What can I get fah yah?!” from a lady who sounds like she smokes 3 packs of Parliament 100’s a day. You’ll see all the regulars, 70’s medallion guy included. If you’re really from Wollaston and familiar with the culture…you’ll know.

Breakfast at Newcomb’s: The lady who seats you is adorable and you’ll wish she was your grandma. Order the “?” or the Crunchy French Toast. Bomb.com. Sorry in advance for saying “bomb.com”.

A temple massage: People often ask me- and by ‘often’ I mean never- where I get my eyebrows done. My response: at my guuuuurl Kim Marie’s of course! What I like about Kim Marie is that the women doing your brows never judge you by asking “This your first time?” when they see how badly that area above your eyeballs needs to be waxed. I’ve been to other places (cough QUINCY CENTER!) where they try to force you into a Brazilian by telling you it doesn’t hurt. Gurl, PLEASE! I’m here for my brows today, let me live. It’s nice to go into a place, pretty much never wait, never be forced into small talk or a cooner waxing, and still get that fabulous temple massage for 1 minute after your eyebrow hair is ripped off your face with hot wax. Eight bucks plus tip well spent!

A siting of this guy: wollyguyLunch with Dell: Stop by Friendly’s and visit with Dell. She’s worked there since at least 1992 and is a lot friendlier than that dude who works at Brigham’s. Legit. Or you could risk it and get a Go Go Taquito from 7-11. Yikes.

Loiter in a school yard: While you’re digesting your Chicken Lickin’ Platter, take a load off by sitting in a school yard. Laugh and reminisce about the existence of “the dime bag” (what the fuck is that?!). Don’t forget to put your hoody on to attract police!

Take in a movie for a buck!: Oh, wait…

theatrPick up some fresh Shelltoes and a Starter jacket: Oh, wait…Bird’s Nest is also gone. Damn.

Change your locks: Got a psycho stalker? In fear for your life? Spare key missing from underneath your flower pot? Stop by Quincy Lock and get that shit changed!

So don’t hold back, get out there, and visit my home-section of Wollaston! From the flatlands you can cut through the old folks home and head up the hill. There is SO MUCH to do! (eh). Chill Wolly Blaze, kid.

wollyyy

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4 Responses to “A Wollaston Day”

  1. Theresa March 6, 2013 at 4:30 pm #

    Hahahahaha. The Brigham’s guy is so not nice. Also, there’s no other place to get your brows done. Sounds like a perfect day.

  2. Kristen (@kristenzem) March 7, 2013 at 4:33 pm #

    The lady who seats at Newcomb Farms is actually the sweetest lady on earth.

  3. abodyapart March 9, 2013 at 6:54 pm #

    Wooo I’m a Wolly girl too. RIP Wolly theater!

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